Date: Mon, 19 Jul 2010 22:43:54 +0100
From: Zero Minus Zero
Subject: Jess Gets Spanked
This work is fiction in its entirety. None of the characters or events are
based on anyone in real life: the entire thing is a made up story from
start to finish. Enjoy!
I hadn't seen Jess the girl who had bullied me for months around school for
a while and wondered if perhaps she had given up on me. She had bullied me
for months but had abruptly stopped after we had been caught by a teacher
in a school restroom. I wondered if Jess had simply got bored with her
kinky bullying, or whether she had found some other poor girl to play
with. The latter thought made me a little resentful, which was disturbing.
Although Jess had tortured me in all manner of disgusting and degrading
ways, I couldn't help but admit that a tiny part of me had enjoyed it, both
the attention and the sexuality of it. Every few days I found myself
masturbating in bed, late at night, and thinking about Jess as I came.
Sometimes I would turn the tables and imagine myself waxing *her* bikini
line with *her* strapped to the table this time, forcing *her* to drink so
much water that *she* wets herself in public. But at other times I
remembered all the things she had done to me, as much as it pained me to
admit it, with a slight sense of longing.
But I wasn't going to find her and beg for one last humiliation: that was
not something I was prepared to do. After all, several times she had come
close to getting me into big trouble: both with my mum, who had come
perilously close to discovering me naked and tied to the kitchen table,
post-waxing, as well as various teachers and pupils who had only just
missed out on seeing me forcefully wet my knickers in front of the whole
class.
So I was a little surprised one afternoon when I was just leaving school
after a late afternoon revision session, to find my old adversary sitting
on a chair crying outside Mrs Watson's office. I didn't need to ask why she
was crying: the only reason a girl would be sitting outside Watson's office
at this time was because they were in trouble and were waiting to get a
stern telling off from the deputy head.
"Hey Jess," I said gently, to show that I bore her no hard feelings. "What
are you in trouble for?"
Jess stared up at my blankly with swollen red eyes, said nothing and
looking back down at her feet as she continued to sniffle. I was confused -
the hard, strong Jessica Roberts reduced to pathetic sobbing? Surely
not. But before I could do anything else, the door to Watson's office
opened. Jane Ellis, the young secretary stuck her head out and told Jess
that Mrs Watson would see her now. "Oh, Miss Baker," she addressed me, "you
should come in too."
I frowned. "But I'm not in trouble. I was just walking past, I'm not part
of this."
"No, but I was looking for you, too. Mrs Watson wanted to see you as well."
She glanced down at a scrap of paper she held and read from it, "Jessica
Roberts and Charlotte Baker, it's right here. You've saved me a job, to be
honest. Just go inside, the deputy head will explain everything, I'm sure."
I hesitantly followed Jess into the imposing office, beyond Jane's desk. It
was an intimidating sight: shelves and shelves of thick, clever-looking
books covered the walls and the deputy head herself, the scariest teacher
in the school, sat behind her large wooden desk, frowning as always. She
told us to take a seat as she sipped from her coffee mug. We sat silently
as she eyed us for half a minute, clearly enjoying the fact that she was
making us nervous. "So, you know what this is about, don't you?"
I shook my head as Jess simultaneously nodded. "Oh, so you haven't told
her?" queried the teacher. "You haven't told you own friend why you're in
trouble and the both of you are sitting in front of me right now?"
Jess just shook her head again, miserable. Whatever had happened, it had
clearly taken the wind out of her sails. "Oh, but I forgot," began Mrs
Watson, "you're not really friends, are you? In fact, you," she said,
pointing at Jess, "are bullying... you," she finished, pointing at me.
"But sometimes she helps you to the toilet when you have a little accident,
as I observed a couple of weeks ago. Whatever floats your boat, I
suppose. It's none of my business, clearly. But what is my business, and
may well be yours, too, Charlotte, as it concerns you, is that I discovered
Jess not one hour ago with a photograph of you, naked. And she seemed to be
in the process of emailing it to the entire school."
I turned to Jess, shocked. She may like to have her fun and games with me
– and we both knew that I secretly enjoyed them – but this was too
much. "You were going to send that picture to the school? But you said you
deleted it!"
"It's not true," mumbled Jess, hopelessly, but Watson was too powerful for
her. "Do you deny that I found you in the IT lab today with that picture of
Charlotte in your emails?" Silence. "Well, do you?"
Jess shook her head once more, her blond pony tail shaking with it. "And do
you deny that the picture was one of Charlotte, naked, getting changed
after swimming and that you took that picture yourself, which is obviously
against the school rules?" More head shaking. "And do you deny that you had
'send to all' in your email heading?"
A feeble "no, but," from Jess, before the teacher once more
interrupted. "No buts, thank you!" She turned to me. "I think it's
punishment time, don't you?"
I wasn't sure what to say. I was still in shock that Jess would do
something so horrible to me. Waxing my private parts when we were alone was
one thing, but humiliating me in front of every boy, girl and teacher in
the institution: that was very bad, even by her lax standards. The photo in
question she had taken on her phone after a swimming lesson several months
ago. But she had seemed genuine when she had told me that she deleted
it. And if she wanted to use it to humiliate me, why wait till now, months
later?
"Stand up," barked Watson at Jess, who reluctantly obliged. "Skirt off,"
she ordered, to my surprise. Jess didn't flinch and began fingering with
the buttons of her skirt as I watched in shock. Surely the deputy head
wasn't allowed to make girls strip as a punishment? Jess let her grey
school skirt fall to her feet, leaving her standing in white cotton
panties. "Very good," muttered the teacher, before she ordered the girl to
bend over the desk, leaving her bottom facing me. Mrs Watson handed me a 24
inch wooden ruler. "You can administer the punishment," she told me, "as it
was you who was wronged by this... miscreant."
"But Miss, I can't," I stuttered.
"Can't punish your friend, can you? Such a good friend that she made you
wet yourself? Don't look so shocked, of course I know. A friend who takes
pictures of you getting changed after swimming? A friend who tries to send
that picture to a thousand other people? You don't have a problem with
that?"
I took her point and gave Jess a soft tap on the right buttock with the
ruler. "You'll have to do better than that," I was told. I tried again,
this time harder, and then again, harder still. The third time Jess
flinched and Watson cackled with joy. "That's it, do it harder!"
I swung again, pulling my arm back and bringing it down on Jess's bum as
hard as I could, causing her to cry out. I brought it down again, then
again, then again, each time causing my sometimes friend and adversary to
moan in pain. Watson congratulated me. "That's very good, Charlotte. You
better check for damage."
I stood there panting, continued. "Take her underwear down, girl," Watson
ordered me, so I slipped my fingers under Jess's waistband and pulled her
knickers down to her knees. Her pert pink bottom has blushing red, but
other than that was fine.
"You better do it harder," the deputy head told me. I swung several more
times, alternating each buttock I hit, every time causing Jess to shake and
writhe on the desk.
"This is the girl who humiliated you," shouted Watson, "the girl who hurt
you, who bullied you!" Each time I was reminded of Jess's games I struck
harder, and on the last swing I deliberately aimed for between her buttocks
and slammed the ruler hard down into her crack and scraped it down over her
asshole. She screamed and Watson had to grab hold of her wrists to stop her
from rising up from the desk.
"That's good, and now get her pussy", instructed the teacher, excited, and
I lost no time spreading Jess's thighs apart to reveal her labia, and swung
underarm, through her legs and up into her pussy. I repeatedly drove the
wood up into her cunt, each time with more force. By the time I had swung
about ten times I had completely lost control and was grinding the ruler up
against her pussy, pulling it back and forth like a saw, as Jess screamed
and banged her hand on the table in agony. I ignored her cries, entirely
caught in the moment and dropped the ruler to the floor and actually
started punching Jess's buttocks with my fists. Watson rose from her chair
in alarm and had to wrestle me off my friend as I grabbed Jess between her
legs as firmly as I could and squeezed her private parts as hard as I
could, my thumb on her anus and my fingers over her pussy.
Watson slapped me across the face and pushed me back into my chair she
cleared had not expected me to become quite so aggressive, but her
encouragement had released some kind of animal instinct in me. I could have
continued forever, hurting Jess until there was nothing left to hurt. It
was frightening. The teacher gently lifted Jess's limp form from her table,
looked into her face and then deposited her in a pile on the floor. "You'll
be fine," she said, "just have a rest down there. You'll just have a very
sore bottom, that's all."
She picked up the ruler, examined the few specks of blood which were on it
and sat back down in her chair, thoughtfully. "You know you went too far,
yes?"
I nodded. "I don't know what got into me," I panted (I was very out of
breath – I had no idea that spanking someone was such an effort), "I
shouldn't have done it."
"Oh, it's OK," she said, dismissively. "I might have expected it. After
all, Jess has treated you very badly. But you know, the thing I can't quite
fathom is why you ever let her."
"I didn't *let* her," I protested. "She bullied me. I couldn't stop it."
"Perhaps. But she chose you because you are weak. I don't want you to be
weak. I want you to be strong. Charlotte, I'm going to teach you to be
strong."
"I don't quite follow..."
"Come round to my side of the desk and I'll show you what I do to weak
girls."
I nervously edged round the desk and faced Mrs Watson. "On your knees," she
instructed.
I knelt in front of her, my face inches from her bare legs, covered to just
above the knee in a sensible grey skirt. "Pull my pants down," she said.
I hesitated. "Come on girl, remove my underwear. It's not that bloody
difficult, is it?"
"No miss," I said as I reached up under her skirt and found her hips. She
lifted herself up from the chair by about and inch and I placed my hands on
her knickers and pulled. I pulled the plain black briefs from under her
skirt and slid them down her legs and then all the way off her feet and
onto the floor.
"Put your mouth close to my cunt," she instructed, as I put my head up
under her skirt and found her pussy. To my surprise, it was completely
hairless, like a little girl's. I had been expecting an overgrown forest
but was instead confronted with a pair of dainty, bald pussy lips.
"Close, put your mouth close, girl," she said. I opened my mouth wide and
placed it over her labia as best I could, while Mrs Watson shuffled towards
me in her chair so that she was right on the edge of it with her crotch
pushed right into my face. I smelled sweat mixed with pussy juices and
received a slight head rush. It was intoxicating.
"Now shut up and just drink this, you pathetic little bitch," she said as I
felt hot liquid pour against my face and realised (without much surprise)
that the teacher was emptying her bladder into my mouth. I started gulping
down the salty liquid, aware that it was spraying everywhere: in my mouth,
down my chin, into my eyes and surely dribbling down onto my blouse.
"That's right, drink it down," Watson commanded me as I gulped and gulped,
each time trying to clear my full mouth of the urine and every time having
it replaced by yet another yellow gush.
The deputy head made encouraging noises as I drank: I could feel by belly
become full with liquid and knew I couldn't take much more. The last few
mouthfuls fell down my blouse more than they went down my throat. Watson
encouraged me to drink down the last few drops and as I did so I licked
between her lips and felt her shudder as I struck her clit. She allowed me
to do this a few more times and then pushed me away. "No, I don't want that
now. Don't think you can charm your way out of this: that's exactly how you
let Jessica get the best of you, I don't doubt." She looked me up and
down. "You're rather wet. We better find you something to wear home." I
looked down at myself. My school shirt was absolutely soaked with urine,
especially around my chest.
Mrs Watson stood, up, smoothed her skirt and delved in a chest of drawers
on the other side of the room. I looked over at Jess. She lay on the floor
where she had been dumped earlier. She had rearranged her clothes and was
now decent, but other than that she was still in the same catatonic slump
as before. It was a shock to me to see someone usually so animated and in
control to now be in such a submissive daze. I guess that she knew that she
had met her match and didn't feel like fighting it. I felt a pang of guilt
about my aggression from earlier.
Mrs Watson turned round holding some clothes which she had retrieved from
the drawer. "Lost property," she explained. "You can wear it home instead
of those wet things."
I looked at the school uniform she had given me. "Will these fit? They look
very small." I looked at the labels. They were clearly made for an eleven
year old: they wouldn't fit at all.
"Just put them on, dear."
"But Mrs Watson, they're definitely too small."
"Perhaps you missed my meaning, Charlotte. You will undress in front of me,
right now. Then you will put on the clothes you have been given. Please
don't make me explain myself yet again. I don't think you would be very
pleased to see what happens when I am made to explain things again."
"Sorry miss," I murmured and unbuttoned my damp blouse. I slipped my skirt
to the floor and stood in my underwear, hesitating.
"Everything," said the teacher, gravely.
I unhooked my bra and let it fall to the floor and followed with my
knickers. I stood naked before my teacher as she eyed me up and down,
breathing in the sight. "Mmmm, delicious," she breathed. She seemed to be
steadying herself; I got the impression that it took all of her willpower
to stop herself from reaching over and... what? Fucking me, one way or
another, I supposed. The idea frightened me, but I could not deny that
there was a little part, deep down in my tummy, that would have been
interested to know what she had in mind.
"Just dress," she commanded, and I picked through the clothes and found the
small black underpants. They were tiny: they looked like a child's. I
raised an eyebrow but knew better than to question. I slipped them over my
feet and pulled them up. They became difficult to pull on when they reached
my thighs. Watson merely gestured with her hand, waving to encourage me to
pull them all the way on. I tugged hard and got them to the top of my
thighs. The back instantly went right into the crack of my bottom, as if it
were a tight thong, even though they were full briefs. The gusset barely
covered my pussy as my labia spilled over the sides. There was no bra in
the pile, just a small T Shirt which I pulled on. It exposed my midriff and
was tight across my chest, making my boobs look huge. My nipples stuck out
through the material. I finished with the skirt. It barely covered my rear,
though I was grateful that if I walked carefully, it would probably just
about cover up my cunt and the minuscule underwear that exposed my privacy.
Mrs Watson looked at me and grinned. "Perfect," she said, gesturing to the
door.
"That's it?" I asked.
"That's it. I won't punish you any further. You're not *that* bad... yet,"
she added, mischievously.
I shuffled towards the door and bent to help Jess get up, who had been
lying on the floor for the last 30 minutes. Of course, I exposed my bum as
I did so and had to fiddle with my clothes for ages before we could leave,
but eventually we hobbled off, holding each other for support and clutching
our bags, mine filled with urine soaked clothes.
"I'm sorry I was rough with you," I told Jess as we left the school.
"That's OK. I just want to get my own back on that bitch."
"Mrs Watson? No, she's too powerful for that. We wouldn't be able to do it,
not without repercussions."
"Oh yeah? Well I already know what we're going to do and by the end of it,
believe me, she won't know what's hit her."